


The Art of Deviance

by EevaMissDiva



Series: Eden in Her Eyes [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha Poe Dameron, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub, Dominant Ben Solo, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Knotting, Masturbation, Mating Rituals, Multi, Older Man/Younger Woman, Omega Verse, Other, Polyamory, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage, Vikings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EevaMissDiva/pseuds/EevaMissDiva
Summary: Rey Palpatine has been stuck in a rut her whole life, trying to be a 'good girl' & live up to expectations of her demanding grandfather.  After the breakup of her two-year relationship with the 'right man,' she drowns her sorrows in trashy novellas.  Her favorite writer is Maz Kanata with her tales of Vikings capturing & sharing their brides.  Of course, that's only fantasy, right?  But when curiosity gets the better of her & she joins 'one of those sites,' she might be in for some surprises.Ben, Armitage, & Poe are brothers, determined to save their family business, fishing the North Sea.  But it's another family tradition that's tearing them apart: stealing & sharing a bride.  Ben knows that no woman wants to play second fiddle to his first love, the sea, but he wants a son to inherit their legacy.  Armitage has been burnt, badly.  He tried to break tradition & step out of his big brother's long shadow, but only ended up a single father.  Poe has spent way too much time listening to their mother's glorified tales of loving four brothers, 'the same, but differently.'  He knows that if they can just find their 'One' then all those old wounds can be healed.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rey, Finn/Rey (past), Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Eden in Her Eyes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792321
Comments: 11
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [AEgir's Trilogy](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/634414) by Tara Cox. 



Rey Palpatine shrugged out of her damp, oversized jumper and threw it on her bed. BB8 wound himself about her leg, cloying for attention, but that was the last thing she wanted after a long day of boring lectures and an unexpected mad dash across town through the pouring rain on foot. She was too tired and frustrated to deal with a needy pussy, even her own. As much as she loved him, he served as a fluffy reminder of her pathetic destiny to become a crazy cat lady haunting some basement flat in an unfortunate side of town.

Only nineteen and already well into her third year at University, she was no further behind in life than any of her peers. At least not on paper. It was just her social life, or lack thereof that chafed at her overall sense of achievement.

After wasting two and a half years of her life, her entire adulthood thus far, in a virtually sexless relationship that ended three months ago when her ex-boyfriend finally gave into familial pressure to move back home, Rey had decided to make drastic changes to her life.

Okay, so maybe not the type of changes that most people would consider _drastic_. She had no intention to change her field of study; her long-time dream of helping disenfranchised children through social work promised to be both emotionally rewarding and financially stable. She had no plans to vacate her decent neighborhood in north London either. The flat she had shared with two acquaintances since she began at University was still perfectly situated to suit her needs. She hadn't even made drastic changes to her physical appearance. At five foot seven barefoot with plain, mousy features, she had never stood out in a crowd and likely never would.

The break up had, however, motivated her to join a local gym down the block from her flat. Just three months on and the noticeable weight she'd gained under the stress of a heavy workload had started to shift. While she'd likely never make it as a conventional model, with a little work she could attract some kind of following on the holonet if she wanted to make the effort.

Even the smallest changes to her routine were radical to Rey, who had spent the vast majority of her life under the thumb of her very rich and very powerful grandfather. He'd done everything in his power to keep her safe and out of the public eye, even going so far as to hire private tutors to see to her education within the comfortably reclusive confines of their ancestral home. The isolation of her youth certainly hadn't made it any easier for her to make friends or catch the eye of a potential mate.

Regardless of her lonely upbringing, Rey wanted nothing more than to please her grandfather in her choice of career and men. While he had been disappointed initially by her refusal to follow in his footsteps by becoming a consultant, her future role as a social worker certainly fell within the realm of 'respectable work' for his upper-crust friends.

And Finn, the handsome up and coming young pediatrician, had more than met his standards. Her own grandfather had been more distraught over the separation than Rey. In truth, she had been relieved when things had finally ended between them. She looked at Finn as more of a friend than a lover well before he broke up with her, she just hadn't had the will to put an end to their comfortable arrangement. It wasn't like they'd ever shared a great passion for each other, certainly not like anything she read about in her racy romance novellas on the holopad that had been his final gift to her last Valentine's Day.

Then again, Rey had never witnessed such passion firsthand, let alone been on the receiving end of it herself. She couldn't recall much of her parents and even less of their interpersonal relationship and her grandfather never took another lover after his own wife perished. What little she knew of marriage she'd learned from the staunch old ladies and gentlemen that made up her grandfather's circle of friends and associates. Even the mated alpha and omega pairs seemed to be in relationships built on shared values, interests, and companionship, certainly miles apart from the wild and tumultuous sexual activities portrayed in her books about heat sex, BDSM, and menage trois. The very idea of that level of need and surrender was both intensely exciting and intimidating to Rey.

Over the three short months since her split with Finn, her repressed desires had increasingly overtaken her sensible side. She found herself splurging more often than she could justify each month on erotica, sometimes reading two novellas in a single day. Over the course of the weekend, she could easily devour ten or more. The worst were, of course, those written by Maz Kanata. They were all harrowing tales of vulnerable women being captured and 'married' off to not one man, but two... or three... sometimes more.

If her grandfather, the esteemed consultant Sheev Palpatine, ever found out the contents of his only heir's holopad, he would have her sectioned. She could almost hear his voice in her head. "Women are stronger than men, more intelligent and far more ruthless. Discounting centuries of religious and hierarchical subjugation, they would rule the world and it would be all the better for it." She guessed her naturally submissive streak would be another source of disappointment for the man. A beta heiress that was never quite smart or ambitious enough to pass for an alpha or submissive enough to be a good omega.

She sighed. What did it matter, anyway? She had spent a lifetime trying to be everything the man wanted her to be and always falling short. Tonight, she would once again put all that nasty business aside and escape into blissful fantasy.

It was barely seven, and despite her fatigue, it would be hours before she was ready to turn in, so she had plenty of time. All she needed was a quick shower to work the feeling back into her frozen digits and to prepare a sensible dinner that fell within her depleted budget, then she could indulge herself with the latest of Kanata's entirely too naughty novellas. She was just getting to the juiciest bits of her favorite series. Menage a trois.

_Definitely a quick shower,_ she thought as she succumbed to temptation and rubbed her palm slowly down the inseam of her too-tight Levis to trace the outline of her aching sex.

She grinned and shook her head at the thought of the Woody Allen quote. "Don't knock masturbation. It's sex with someone you love." That was certainly more than what she could say for those rare, often lukewarm, and embarrassingly awkward nights that she and Finn had endured together.

As far as Rey was concerned, sex was highly overrated. Well, sex with men or at least the few betas she'd trusted enough to go there with. Of course, considering what little experience she'd actually amassed, with only two lonely names to her little black book, who was she to pass judgement on an entire gender?

Still, she couldn't help but wonder if sex with a partner could ever compare or come close to the things she read about in her novellas or even the orgasms she gave herself. She sighed, if only sex was half as good as how Maz Kanata made it out to be in her books.

For all she knew, it was possible. At least for sweet, obedient little omegas and their rough, dominating alpha counterparts. But she was a beta and no amount of exercise or other lifestyle changes would alter that. Until she finished off school, there was nothing she could do to improve any other aspects of her life. Her current level of social isolation and lack of free time would never attract the attention of those types of men, anyway.

"Enough," she chided herself. Her life was not that bad. She loved her studies and couldn't wait to better the lives of helpless children. She had a safe, quiet, and relatively decent place to live. Food to eat and even a little bit of money in savings in case of an emergency. Still, she craved something more... excitement, wild sex... love most of all.

She shook her head as she pulled the bands from her mousy brown tresses and shook it free. She would not cry. Not again. She would be happy. Okay, maybe content was a better word choice, but she would at least be content until she could manage happiness. She vowed it to herself as she headed down the hall to shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Rey savored the final bites of her spicy coconut curry. If she weren't so full already, she'd have been half tempted to lick the bowl. It was her favorite dish.

After her shower, she'd spent nigh on ten minutes standing in front of her open refrigerator, just staring at its meager contents. The bag of lifeless, wilted greens she'd purchased earlier in the day for this exact meal seemed to taunt her after her miserable trek through the rain. No, she'd decided. Her body wanted food, _real food_ , hot food, and not the pack of instant noodles she kept on hand for such events, either.

Truth be told, it hadn't taken nearly as much mental persuasion as usual for her to dip into her savings account over the past few months. Following the break-up, she'd depleted nearly half the funds she'd managed to squirrel away since leaving home. It seemed loneliness had robbed her of whatever semblance of frugality she'd practiced previously. Excuses she'd rarely used like 'just this once,' and 'what's a couple quid?' had become commonplace.

So, in the end, she'd given in to temptation once again and pulled up the app on her holopad that promised quick and tasty relief. After all, what's a couple quid? Indian had been her first choice, as it always was. There was a reason Tikki masala had been elected as the national dish, despite its origins. Brits certainly loved their curry and she was no exception to the rule.

Maybe she should date an Indian guy next, if only to possibly save on take-out?

She shook her head. No, that would feel too close to cheating. There were plenty of Indian doctors in their network and her grandfather had long since made up his mind that if his only progeny would not become a physician herself, then she must marry one. Not only would it be far too easy to find one that would live up to her grandfather's fastidious expectations, but she knew of at least three that were both readily available and within an acceptable age range.

Rey sighed as she packed up the remainder of the food from her dinner and prepared to hide them away in her section of the shared fridge. She would take them to school with her for lunch tomorrow. If she weren't _too_ terribly hungry, perhaps she'd manage to stretch them out to dinner as well.

"Shoot," was about as close to cursing as Rey usually got. She had nearly forgotten that she was supposed to meet up with him that Sunday for their monthly brunch at the upscale tea room in Chelsea. She'd skipped the last three in favor of wallowing in self pity and sat in front of the telly with a pint of Ben & Jerry's, but was determined to show her face at last.

She could practically hear him asking already, "Have you lost weight, dear?" That would, of course, lead to the inevitable well-meaning inquiries into her underwhelming love life. Was she dating again? No. Then he would offer to set her up with one of the young consultants at the hospital where he still occasionally worked, or perhaps even the son or grandson of a trusted friend.

Rey wasn't quite ready to get back out there, though. The very idea of dating turned her off full stop. The only part that really interested her was the notion of possibly being able to have a child of her own someday. She'd always wanted to be a mum. Of course, if Sheev Palpatine had anything to say about it; she'd need a husband first. One from an acceptable gene pool, who had attended the right schools, and came from one of the best families. Nope. None of that held any appeal for her.

She stacked the boxes next to her bed and reached for the holopad on her nightstand.

What wouldn't she give to spend a day in the life of an omega? To truly experience the overwhelming urges and neediness of a heat that can only be satiated by the swollen knot of a virile, compatible alpha?

Okay, so no one _actually_ wanted to be an omega _or_ an alpha, for that matter. At least, not anyone sane. In a world where betas now made up the vast majority of the population, who wanted to be the odd man out? Once slaves to their biological imperative to mate and breed enough to support an unstable population in a much more dangerous world, such scientific interventions as birth control and hormonal suppressants had driven them to near extinction. Besides, Rey had a hard enough time just remembering to take her birth control on time, the last thing she needed was another set of prescriptions to manage.

No, all she really wanted was a taste. Just a small sample of the passion that she'd read about in her books would do--the tingles and anticipation of being dominated by a strong, protective man.

As usual, her body responded simply to the mere notion of rough, masculine hands laced through her thick, shoulder length hair, jerking her head back, forcing her to look deep into his eyes for a long moment before his mouth captured hers. Not some timid, wet, and sloppy kiss like the ones Finn had given her, but taking, demanding, even angry kisses that borderline _forced_ her compliance.

Rey worried away thoughtfully at her lower lip as she typed her passcode into the device.

She frowned and furrowed her brow as she tried to decide whether to browse through the top blog posts on the too-naughty social networking site devoted to BDSM and alternative lifestyles like polygamy or read Maz Kanata's latest novella? She'd actually found the site in the acknowledgements of Kanata's books. It had been an addiction of hers ever since.

The decision wasn't a difficult one; website first and then she would read a few passages from the book. She never spent more than a couple of minutes browsing through the site, anyway. After two months as a member, she had amassed a staggering total of four friends. Exactly four. All of them were other female submissives. Three of them were close to her in age and also just starting out, but the fourth was an older woman who had messaged her the week before because she too enjoyed Maz Kanata's books. She anticipated a couple of messages from them and perhaps another four or five from rude Dom types, demanding her instant submission, a blow job, and that she become his cum slut for life. Those were easy; block and delete.

After she checked her messages, she would take a look at the home page to sort through any new submissions from that day, searching in earnest for any random spicy stories or titillating poems. While the site had been invaluable to her research into BDSM, she couldn't bring herself to linger for very long on the main page. Too many selfies of perfect, semi-clad and often nude, bodies. For a plain Jane like her, it was enough to send her spiraling into a depression that only another pint of delicious Ben & Jerry's ice cream would solve.

Once she'd gotten all that out of the way, she could spend a few hours indulging in the lives of Maz Kanata's Viking brothers and their poor Welsh captive. Three dark, broody, and dominant men, all a girl could want in her bed after a long day. When she finally grew tired of reading and her libido grew too strong to be denied any longer, she was confident she would be able to conjure up their rustic visages with long, blond hair, thick beards, and piercing blue eyes.

_You know you're pathetic when the only men in your life are on the cover of erotic novellas..._ Rey sighed and opened the browser. Where was BB8 when she needed comforting, anyway?

She smiled when she noticed that she had received six new messages while she'd been away. The first two she left unopened when she saw that both avatars were photos of hard, rigid cocks. She shuddered in revulsion.

Some things a girl wanted to unwrap herself... Slowly, like the biggest, shiniest package on Christmas morning.

The next was a cheery missive from another newbie sub, who had started messaging this guy a couple of days ago. Rey was a little concerned for her. Things with this guy seemed to be moving fast. The guy had watched her friend strip on cam that very first night. This message was even more alarming; her friend was meeting up with him tomorrow. _Three days? Is this girl crazy?_

Rey sent off a quick response, trying to discourage the girl from doing anything stupid, but even as she wrote, she knew it was likely futile. Who was she, after all, to tell the woman anything? What did she know about anything? Three months since the break-up and she'd not had a single date.

She shook it off and smiled again at the next message. It was from the older, more experienced sub, who claimed to love Maz Kanata's books as much as she did... well, almost. She'd given Rey a quick rundown of how far she'd gotten in the latest book and how much she was hoping that the heroine would finally give in to her attraction to the protagonist she was rooting for. Rey was tempted to quiz the woman about what being a sub was really like, her profile _did_ say that she had lived the lifestyle 24/7 for over forty years. She couldn't even imagine such a thing, but certainly didn't know the woman well enough to ask such personal questions.

Could she do such a thing? Probably not.

Heck, Rey wasn't entirely confident that she was submissive at all. Just because she got all hot and bothered by some text on a screen didn't necessarily mean that she actually wanted to play an active role in the fantasy, right? Plenty of women had rape fantasies, but that didn't mean they actually wanted to be raped.

She bit her bottom lip again as she remembered the intense scene in chapter three when one of the Viking brothers had taken the heroine. There was a fine line between 'taking' and rape, was there not? Those scenes got her worked up faster than anything else. Maybe some deeply repressed part of her even liked the idea of being 'taken.' She wanted none of the violence or fear of death associated with rape, but the idea of rough sex, being given no real choice, coerced within limits... Well, the very thought did things to her that left her trembling.

She shook her head as she glanced at the last two messages. One was bulk mail of some sort. Her breath caught when she opened it and saw some of the most beautiful floggers she'd ever seen. Dark wooden handles intricately carved with different kinds of fells, some looking wide and soft, others stiff, thin, and way too dangerous to entertain.

_What would one of those even feel like?_ She wondered, imagining the sensations one might bring to her virgin skin. She thought back to the few videos she had seen on the site of Doms flogging their subs. She'd been so envious. Honestly, those video clips almost got her as worked up as entire passages out of Maz Kanata's books. She shook the thought away and forced herself to close out of the message.

What was the point? She had quickly discovered that unless she was willing, as her new friend seemed to be, to jump at any offer, any cock-pic Dom who sent her a naughty message, then chances were all this was destined to remain just another unfulfilled fantasy. She sighed as she opened the final message.

His eyes jumped out at her. She couldn't discern their color, just the mesmerizing intensity of his stare. The man was Dom, all Dom. Possibly even an alpha. Despite the fact that he was obviously a bit older than the men she usually went for, she was captivated by him. She couldn't quite place it or say what it was, the strangely, almost ethereal way his eyes spoke to her of quiet confidence, power, and strength.

The man belonged on the cover of one of her novellas. Rey tried to envision him stripped to the waist in tight leather breaches. Heck, she even checked his profile in the hopes that he might have such a picture there, but was sorely disappointed. There was only one photo. Luckily, that meant that he hadn't posted any cock pics, which gave her an excuse to open his message before using her trusted method of 'block and delete.'

When she did, she was surprised.

For a man who pretty much oozed Dom from every pixel, the message was refreshingly charming. Compared to the messages she'd received from other, less appealing Doms, his was practically sedate.

> _I enjoy reading your profile. You put much thought into what you like and want. I like this. We share similar fetishes, especially rope-play._
> 
> _I am a fisherman and work with rope as part of my job, but still, love it best against soft, supple skin of submissive. I do not pretend to do the same art of Shebari you like, but can easily tie you into any position I want. After all, I have been tying knots since almost before I walked._
> 
> _I apologize for my English, it is not my native language. As it says on my profile, I am from Norway. Ach-To. It is a beautiful, rough life. I have two younger brothers who also fish with me and my mother and uncle here too._
> 
> _I would like to know you. Be friends. Maybe?_
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Kylo Ren_

Rey's eyes drifted again to the profile picture. _A fisherman?_ Yes, she could see that. He definitely _looked_ rough, like someone who worked with his hands and used his whole body up against dangerous odds. Darn, for the first time, she wished he actually did have a naked photo saved to his profile. Maybe not one of his cock, not _just_ his cock, anyway. She would love to see what he kept hidden beneath his dark blue jumper.

It occurred to her then that this was the first time since joining the site that she was actually contemplating responding to a message from a Dom. He wasn't just a pretty face, either. Though, his face was indeed, very pretty in the exact intense, dark, and broody way she liked. This Dom had taken her by surprise, though. Not only had he been polite, he'd been downright _gentlemanly_ by her thoroughly degraded standards. His message had lacked the immediate subjugation she'd grown accustomed to on the site. No demands for instant submission. No foul language. No ribald jokes. Not even a comment on how sexy he found her profile pictures to be.

_Darn it; he must not have seen those!_ Of course, that was it. No guy this insanely attractive would ever message a girl like her intentionally. Regardless of her newfound makeup and photoshop skills, it was still painfully obvious how chubby she'd gotten at Uni and how plain she truly was beneath all the gloss and glam. It didn't matter if this guy was a decade older than her, his profile said thirty, he was way out of her league.

She shook her head and tried to put the whole thing out of her mind as she quickly skimmed over the site's main page. None of the articles stood out to her, but there were a few lovely Shebari photographs that caught her eye. Those just made her think about him again. Besides, all those pictures were of thinner, more beautiful girls than Rey with softer, more delicate features.

Rey could never. Not without feeling like a pig dressed up for a banquet. Tied up with a shiny red ball gag in her mouth in place of the traditional apple. She shuddered at the thought and closed the browser, opening up her reader instead. The screen instantly came to life, exactly where she'd left off at lunchtime.

Not ten minutes later, she threw the holopad on the bed and groaned in frustration. She'd found herself reading and re-reading the same passage twice over and simply could _not_ concentrate! Those dark, piercing eyes seemed to reach out to her from across the sea and another world away.

_Fuck!_ She didn't need this. The last thing she wanted was another complication to much up her already floundering existence. Or _did_ she? Wasn't this the exact sort of experience she'd yearned for earlier? Maybe this man was the answer to her wish for that small taste of whatever passion she could stomach. He certainly lived far enough away to pose no real danger to her physical safety.

She considered it for several long minutes before typing out a short response that thanked Kylo for his message and opened the door, just a minor crack, for further communications.

It was barely dusk, but Rey was tired. Tomorrow would be another long day of lectures, her course load was enough to make anyone balk, but for now... Quite frankly, she was too worked up to fret about any of that. Far more so than usual. She powered off her holopad and laid it back on the nightstand as BB8 curled up at the foot of her bed.

She often got aroused when reading Maz Kanata's books, sometimes even during the parts that weren't particularly racy. Heck, she had masturbated more in the past few months than her entire life leading up to this point. This was a whole new level of need, though.

The swirling heat of arousal pulsed along her nerve endings and danced from one erogenous zone to another, as if her body were lit aflame. As she lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes, Rey slipped her hands beneath her oversized t-shirt. She palmed at and kneaded her own breasts until she thrust her head back into the pillows and arched her back off the bed as she whimpered and gasped her yearning. Still, it wasn't enough; her fingers pinched and twisted at her nipples as they throbbed and begged for attention. She stifled a moan as she felt the shock of arousal pulse straight down her less than flat tummy to pool between her thighs.

Clenched and trembling with need, they fell open as one hand followed the path of those tingles, under the elastic waistband of her knickers. Now, they weren't quite so bad as the ones favored by Bridgette in that movie, but they weren't far off. Boy shorts were her undergarments of choice. Better to dress for comfort than sex appeal when no one would see them anyway.

Her fingers navigated their way through her curls along the path to her clitoris. The source of her pleasure was already engorged and pulsing with need as she massaged her outer lips, the indirect stimulation designed to prolong her pleasure. Trailing feather light, soothing soft strokes against her fevered skin, she fought the urge to take things further, to rub against the nub itself.

Edging. It was something she'd picked up on that site, that oh-so-naughty site. Her breath caught and her nipples puckered impossibly tighter against the cool air in her room. One thought inevitably led to another; his face, those intense fucking eyes, she bet they glittered just like gold in the sunlight. Norway. Her Vikings. His presence was much too overpowering to be the sweet and considerate youngest brother. Was he the eldest, the one born to rule and lead? Or perhaps the middle son, the brother she liked best, the one who fought alone?

_What would it feel like to be on the receiving end of that stare?_ Would her knees tremble as her thighs were now as her fingers inched closer and closer to her swollen love button? Would she be able to catch her breath? _No, no way,_ she couldn't even do that now, just thinking about the man.

Rey's whole body lurched off the bed as she cried out. Her orgasm took her so suddenly, by such surprise, without any warning, that she hadn't been able to stifle the scream. It was, without a doubt, the most powerful orgasm of her life. Her whole body still tingled, alive with desire and needier than she could remember having ever felt.

"Rey, are you okay?" came the sound of her flatmate's voice. She wasn't close, perhaps at the top of the landing.

Thinking quickly, she yelled out, "I'm fine! BB8 just sank is claws into me is all. I'm sorry if we bothered you."

"Oh, no worries, as long as you're alright. He can sleep up here with us if he's bothering you, you know we adore him," Rose called back. She'd known the woman since she'd started Uni, had lived in the same flat with her for nearly three years, but couldn't consider her more than an acquaintance of sorts. Definitely not a friend.

"Thanks, but we're good now," Rey could only hope the woman wouldn't insist on coming down to make sure for herself.

She was relieved when Rose replied softly, "Okay. Well, goodnight, then."

Rey waited to hear the soft footfall that confirmed Rose was indeed going back upstairs to the room she shared with their other flatmate, Kaydel. A couple of months back, the two had confirmed what she had suspected for some time, that they were, in fact, a couple. Not that it bothered her. She had no problem with them being lesbians. It was just the reminder of her own loneliness, feeling like a third wheel even at home, that weighed on her.

Maybe she should give some serious thought to finding a new flat. But where would she find anything as decent, safe, and affordable so close to the university? So, like so many other things in her life, Rey just let it slide.

She really should have caught on to this submissive thing sooner, considering how much she hated and avoided confrontation. Whenever any of her friends asked where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do, she always found a way around having to come up with an answer. Except when it came to school and her future career, she just didn't like having to make the decisions on her own.

She couldn't even decide whether she should get up and take another cold shower to cool off or roll over and try to go to sleep. She pondered the dilemma for a couple of minutes, but that only made things worse as she realized how flustered she still was. Worse than she could ever remember being and she hadn't even read one of the naughtier bits of the book tonight.

The explanation was obviously... _him._ Her golden-eyed, she was convinced his eyes were like molten gold, Viking fisherman. The more she lay in bed and thought about him, the worse it got.

"Darnation," she mumbled as she pulled herself from the bed, put away her leftovers, and stood for several long minutes under the shower head with the tap as cold as she could stand it.

Why wasn't it helping? When she finally got out, her nipples were harder from the almost freezing water pounding on them, and the rough terry cloth of the towel made her want to scream. She dared only pat _down there_. She knew if she rubbed herself dry, it would lead to more rubbing of another kind and she had already disturbed her flatmates once this night.

Besides, when had she ever? Twice in one day? She really must stop with the edging. That had to be the catalyst. Yes, she would stop edging, maybe even cut back on her reading for a while, she decided as she went back to her room and climbed in bed.

She tossed and turned uncomfortably for a while. When she did finally fall asleep, it was dream filled and restless. She'd encountered such erotic dreams before, but never quite like this. Molten gold irises pierced through her very soul, demanding things she didn't think herself capable of giving--things she wanted to taste and feel so very badly, though.

The hardest part was that her dream Dom finally had a face. It wasn't one of those hard-bodied male models from the covers of her raunchy novellas, either. It was _his._ The rough fisherman. Kylo Ren.


	3. Chapter 3

Rey fidgeted with her bag. _What are you doing?_ She asked herself. Traveling over two hours outside London to meet up with a complete stranger, whom she'd only emailed back and forth with over the past couple of months, was so unlike the normally sedate young lady. She'd never gone so far out on a limb before in her entire life, let alone just to _meet_ someone.

Then again, there was a fair number of things she'd done lately that could be considered out of character. After the disastrous, yet inevitable conclusion to her lukewarm relationship months prior, for example, she took up reading, something she usually abhorred. She even used the holopad her ex had gifted her with to do so. Unfortunately, what started out as a helpful distraction from the excruciating monotony of her daily grind had rapidly spiraled out of control.

Ever since Rey stumbled across Maz Kanata's erotic novellas in the suggested section of her reader, she'd been insatiable. It was so easy for her to slip into the sinful world of sexual deviance. These things spoke to her like nothing else had; bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sexual sadism and masochism, even the primitive power dynamics between mated alpha and omega pairs. She'd nearly drained half her savings that first month, devouring every explicit fantasy Kanata had ever published or made available online.

All that might have been had enough, had she not also created a profile on one of the fetish sites listed in the acknowledgements of her favorite books. Of course, she hadn't been stupid enough to use any recognizable pictures of herself. The last thing she needed was for anyone she knew to find her on that site. No, she'd cropped a few to highlight her best features; her long, muscular legs in a tight mini-skirt her friends had convinced her to wear clubbing once and another that accentuated the meager swell of her breasts in her favorite leather jacket and white bodysuit combo as she leaned over to speak with someone. She had gotten dozens of private messages and friend requests, but most had been so blatantly offensive that she hadn't bothered to respond.

In any case, not _everything_ she'd done differently since Finn left had been so wholly unproductive. She'd actually managed to gain a bit of self confidence when she joined a local gym and started regularly attending classes there a few times a week. She was only a stone or two off from her goal now and couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so fit.

She also couldn't remember a time she'd ever felt so physically and emotionally unsatisfied.

Either way, Kylo Ren was different from all those cock-pic doms that made her feel bad about herself. While he made no attempt to disguise the fact that he _was_ actually an alpha, as she'd somehow guessed, with a clearly expressed desire to dominate her, he conducted himself in a mild-mannered, respectful way. Their emails, of which there were now hundreds, ranged from long tomes about the nature of domination and submission to racy descriptions of things he would like to do to her... things that left her breathless and bothered.

Even when he was busy, he always found the time to send her one-line updates about his travels as an arctic fisherman. While her grandfather had taken her on annual excursions to exotic locales across the globe, their summer holidays were always the same, two weeks at an all inclusive family resort on Spain's Costa del Sol. So places like St. Petersburg, Lubek, Germany, and his adopted homeland in Finland intrigued her as much as his deep, dark eyes had enthralled her from the moment she saw the picture on his profile.

No, there was no denying that this man fascinated and excited her in a way that Rey had never experienced. There was just something about his eyes and the polite, tersely worded emails that belied something deeper, something as wild as the arctic seas he fished and the rugged land from whence he came. Kylo had become her own, personal fantasy. In him, she saw the faces of every dom she'd ever read about delivered into one luscious package of deep golden eyes, long, dark hair, broad shoulders and towering strength.

She desperately needed to get him out of her system. His face had haunted her dreams nearly every night of the past three months. In them, his large, calloused hands tormented her body with soft caresses and sharp, stinging blows to her bare bottom. His soft, full mouth crushed against hers, stole her very breath, and moved slowly, so softly along every single inch of her body.

"Stop it, Rey," she chided aloud as she packed her holopad back into her oversized bag. The very proper automated recording called her station as she readied herself to disembark.

She tugged at the hem of her mini-skirt from that picture. This was only the second time she'd worn it, this time she'd donned a pair of thick, warm winter tights beneath it to protect her legs from the biting winds that blew off the English Channel. She wiggled into her thick, winter coat, grateful it would cover the generous amount of cleavage that her new corset had supplied her with.

_What was I thinking, buying such a thing?_ She wondered what could have possessed her to wear such an outlandish, slutty costume to their first, _and only,_ meet. Whether from the daring thrill of arranging this clandestine meeting or the tightly cinched ribbons and bone stays, her breaths came in rapid, shallow little gasps.

It was too late now for her to take any more of that into consideration, let alone the dozens of other questions that had gnawed at her throughout the train ride and the past two days since agreeing to this crazy idea to meet. She inhaled deeply and stood slowly, clenching her jaw with determination. She forced one foot in front of the next, watching her knee-high leather boots move across the worn floor of the train, willing her knees not to give out.

A brief coffee with the mystery man who had captured her imagination, that was all this was. Then she would be able to put him out of her mind; move on with her life, maybe find another suitable boyfriend to please her grandfather, even if he never made her pulse race the way it did now, the way it always did when she saw another of his emails in her inbox.

It was just her active imagination. Too many dirty books and too long without even the sedate love makings of a decent, ordinary man. There was nothing special about this one. At least, not really. Certainly nothing that should warrant this type of reaction. She had merely built him up in her mind as something larger than life.

That's precisely why this date, if she could even call it that, was so important. Facing him in person, truly understanding the reality of this rough and weathered fisherman would surely dispel any childish notions of a crush she clung to and put a swift end to her debauched fantasies. At least, that's what she told herself as she filed out of the car and off the train with the rest of the departing passengers. She squared her shoulders and ran through the speech that she had prepared for this moment as she fed her ticket through the automated turnstile.

The moment Rey looked up and saw him, she froze. Her breath caught and her lungs burned as her heart threatened to pound right through her chest. She hadn't expected him to just _be there_ waiting for her, but he was and God, he was huge. So much bigger and broader than she had imagined. His photo really hadn't done him justice. Her knees that had wobbled from the start would have completely given way if not for the massive hand that reached across the turnstile to grip her arm and draw her through the mechanism.

"Rey," his deep, heavily accented voice went right through her as he bent to brush a chaste kiss on her cheek. Few men needed to bend down to kiss her, but this one certainly would. "These are for you," he said as he handed her a bouquet of colorful flowers.

"Yeah?" she stammered, at a loss for her rehearsed introduction speech.

His plush, full lips turned up at the corners of his mouth, but she wouldn't exactly call it a smile. No, his expression was similar to the one her cat gave her when he was trying to manipulate her into giving him another treat.

She brought the flowers to her face and inhaled the subtle, exotic aroma. They weren't familiar to her and she could tell that he hadn't bought them from a typical florist's shop. "Thank you," she finally managed to whisper, watching her fingers stroke along the starched tissue paper and pretty blue ribbons tightly fastened to the specialty bouquet.

"They're from my mother's greenhouse," he acknowledged. "She thought you might like a token from our homeland. Arctic wildflowers are her passion... she says tending to them kept her sane while dealing with my father, uncles, and all my brothers."

"But not you?" she asked, before she could think better of it.

This was the most solid information that Kylo had revealed about hismelf or his family in all their months of correspondence. It should have reassured her, made him seem somehow more human and less _other_ , but it only deepened his mystery. There had been so many things that she had kept apart from him in her mind, so many things she hadn't dared to consider even asking about. Except now she was considering asking him all of them.

"No, not even her flowers could keep her safe from me," he replied, but this time he really did smile. When he did, it took over his whole face and lit up his dark, amber eyes. Amber, not gold. He didn't look so much older than herself when he smiled like that, all charming laugh lines and dimples.

Her heart stuttered. For a moment, she considered turning around and trying to catch the train back to London before it left the station. She was in over her head and she knew it.

With those eyes like lava staring into hers, she couldn't find the strength to say a single word. Let alone pull her arm from his grip to turn and walk back through the station. _Running back would be a better plan,_ she thought as he drew her against himself and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Coffee, yes?" he asked.

She nodded and he led her out of the station onto High Street. Tilbury was like any other small port along the Channel, nondescript. Dead, almost, but after the hustle and bustle of London, it held a quaint appeal all its own.

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes until they came to a chip shop. Kylo stepped back and held the door open for her, apologizing as she walked past. "I'm sorry, there's not much here."

Rey smiled weakly in acknowledgement. She turned once more to look back at the station, hesitating. Something deeply buried within her subconscious warned her to run, run _now,_ but she dismissed it. So what if he didn't look the same as he had in his photos and in her head? He seemed normal enough. She was just being paranoid, that's all.

The next hour went by smoothly; two cups of coffee, decent conversation, and more laughter than she could ever remember on a first date. Not that this was an actual date, of course. _More like old friends meeting for drinks_ , she assured herself. The only difference was that she'd never spent an entire outing sneaking glances at any of her _friends_ , nor had she ever wondered what any of them might look like naked or how well they performed in bed.

No, even though Kylo had been surprisingly easy to talk to, she was still incredibly nervous.

"I suppose I should let you get back to work, Kylo. I've got to go catch the next train back to London," she stammered, studying her hands as they clenched around the plain white coffee mug. "It's been nice meeting you, though."

He frowned. The move sent deep creases into his striking features. He was not handsome in the traditional sense. At just thirty, his skin was that of an older man's, weathered by his job. Worry crinkled the skin around his eyes and lined his forehead. His hair was longer than she had thought, falling just below his shoulders. His lips- _oh, God, his lips_ -that she couldn't stop watching while he spoke, were surrounded by a dark goatee and mustache. But, of course, it was those eyes that Rey really couldn't bring herself to look away from.

Not just the intense shades of amber and gold or the twinkle that flickered through them when he laughed, which she got the distinct impression he didn't do nearly enough, but there was something else there, too. Intelligence, certainly. Authority, for sure. But something else, too. Pain, maybe?

No. She needed to stop thinking about this man, needed to go home and find some decent fellow to settle down with, like her grandfather wanted. Not mysterious men who brought his vicious Viking ancestors and their brutal way of lovemaking to life in her mind. Rough fishermen who wrote to her of doing unthinkable things and brought her lovely exotic flowers from his homeland had no place in her well ordered life. No matter how much her body ached to feel his touch, to have him do even one of the naughty things they had discussed in those stirring emails, she had to let him go.

"No." The single word was spoken in a low, stern voice, one that demanded strict obedience. "I will show you the ship."

Rey knew that she should argue. Knew she should make her escape now. But the truth was that he _fascinated_ her and their meeting had done little to quash her obsession. If anything, it had added fuel to the fire. Perhaps seeing him in his natural environment would offer her some sense of closure, maybe even give her some of the answers to the mystery that drew her to him like the proverbial moth to a flame.

Looking into the depths of those intense eyes, she thought, _a very hot flame, indeed. I'm going to get burnt._ Even still, she found herself nodding her assent. He held her coat out for her while she worked her arms into the sleeves and his hand brushed briefly against the side of her breast.

She exhaled. It came out as a pathetic, needy little whimper. She dropped her eyes in embarrassment. When she finally found the courage to look up at him again, Kylo was smiling. Not just any smile, but one that made her want to dash for the station.

_'Come in,' said the spider to the fly,_ she thought.

The walk to the harbor took them only moments. The town was tiny, smaller, it seemed, than the port. Kylo spoke in quiet tones with the security guard before placing his hand on her elbow and guiding her towards the ship. It was smaller than most of the others around it, but much larger than any vessel she'd been aboard.

She watched from the pier as two other men wound rope and worked with nets on the deck. They looked familiar. Like Kylo, but subtly and in different ways. Both men looked up as they approached. Kylo spoke to them as well, but in another language. Norweigan, she assumed, it sounded as guttural and harsh as the men appeared.

The two strangers studied her for a moment before they both smiled and nodded. Kylo smiled too, his grin tight over his misshapen teeth as he gripped her elbow again to help her board the ship.

"My brothers," he informed, "Armitage and Poe."

The younger, clean shaven man with dark, curlier hair than Kylo's, who looked to be about her own age, spoke. "Welcome to the Falcon's Captive."

Rey frowned at his words until she saw the name painted on the end of the boat. When she turned to ask Kylo about the odd name, he was busy talking animatedly with his brothers. She sighed and looked out at the sea as far as it stretched before her. On the other side of its choppy waters lay the wild and mysterious land that borne these hard men. It might seem odd to think of Norway in those terms, but after what she'd learned about the Vikings from British history, their unforgiving Norse gods, and now to be surrounded by these strange, powerful men, the place seemed anything but civilized.

Kylo surprised her when he took her by the hand. He guided her up a series of steep stairways. At the top of the last set housed a thoroughly modern command center. There were decks of computers, radar and GPS. Those were just the types of equipment she recognized. There was also a wheel that looked much like the ones she had seen in pirate movies, except that it was made of shiny, chromed metal rather than weathered, old wood. Everything in this room seemed to fit the man before her.

He nodded, as if agreeing with her unspoken assessment, "My world."

She frowned and waited for him to elaborate, but he simply walked over to a bank of computers and started working away at them for a couple of minutes. Then, once he'd finished whatever he'd been doing, he turned back to her with that same smile that had reminded her of the spider, "I will show you my living quarters."

Once more, he took her by the elbow and led her down the stairs. He went first and steadied her when she otherwise might have fallen. This time, rather than stop on deck, they turned and went lower, deep into the belly of the ship. It was another couple of flights before he guided her down a small hallway. He pointed out a kitchen that he called the 'galley' and the loo, which he referred to as the 'head.' There was another room that he said belonged to his brothers. At the end of the hallway stood another doorway. He opened it and stepped to the side.

"Come in," he said with that awful smile. Rey's heart raced as she envisioned that spider, except this time she could see herself as a fly, her wings wrapped in the fine silken bonds of this man's web. She shivered and he ran those massive hands she'd fantasied about up and down her arms.

Even through her thickest winter coat and jumper, she could feel his heat. "I apologize. I forgot how cold the sea can be this time of year."

It was the most intimate he had been with her. Rey swallowed hard. _This isn't a good idea,_ some part of her protested, but the voice was too quiet, too fleeting. Looking up into those eyes like lava, she stepped into the darkly paneled cabin. _Into the lion's den._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I changed the title to something a little less generic & played around with the tags a bit. I'll update them as they become relevant... which they will... next chapter? Now, don't all shout at once, please!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Extremely dubious consent & graphic depictions of rape in this chapter.

Rey heard the click of the door close behind her and turned in panic. His large frame blocked the doorway. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, but he made no move to approach. He just stood there and studied her.

"We should probably head back to the station now," she supplied, eyeing him warily.

"Later," he dismissed, finally crossing the distance to come stand in front of her. "Take off your coat."

The words may have sounded like the usual trappings of polite conversation, but his tone was that of an order. No, it wasn't simply a request. He was using the superior abilities of his designation, his authority as an alpha to command her. All at once, it became too much to bear. She wanted to call the whole thing off, but it was too late.

Her fingers were already trembling as they obeyed. When the last button sprang free, his hands at her shoulders brushed the offending garment away. The coat fell to the floor at her feet.

His lips that had captivated her so captured her own. There was no better word for it than captured, conquered, _claimed._ His kiss was neither tentative nor polite, it was as wild and untamed as the wolfish nature of the man himself. All teeth and tongue and passion, it was unlike anything Rey had ever experienced. On and on, he kissed her like he was devouring the very breath from her lungs, smothering her will to resist him. When he finally drew back, she leaned helplessly against him, her body plastered to his.

"Take off your clothes."

Panic rose in her chest. Warning bells sounded from that newly awakened, primitive part of her that recoiled and shrunk away from this beguiling predator. She started to shake her head, but his hands had already slipped beneath her jumper. Calloused fingertips caressed the soft skin of her abdomen. She bit her lip to keep from moaning at the intoxicating feel of his caress. "I really think I should go now," she whispered and turned back for the door.

"Don't make me tell you again," he warned in a low, even tone, his words spoken softly against the shell of her ear as he curled himself around her back. When she moved to step away, his teeth sank into the lobe, pinning her in place like a dog. His massive hands covered her breasts, working the soft flesh, kneading at the mounds like they were warm pastry dough. She moaned when his thumbs passed over the throbbing tips and he bit down harder on her ear.

One of his big, strong hands abandoned her breasts and she whimpered at the loss of its attention. Almost lazily, it traversed its way back down across the suddenly sensitive skin of her stomach, but this time it went lower. He expertly located the button and zipper of her denim skirt and quickly divested her of the skin-tight confines. His hand moved with purpose now, as it worked its way inside her leggings until his fingers brushed the fatty tissue of her mons pubis.

"Open," he growled into her ear as he continued to nip and pull at the tender lobe.

Rey shook her head even as her legs spread open at his command. Another alpha command and her body was reacting like she was a bitch in heat. What was this man doing to her? Not for the first time, she sensed how deep the danger truly was. She had been so careful to avoid anyone discovering her little fetish that she hadn't told a single soul where she was going.

"Oh God," she whispered as the revelation hit her and his blunt fingers speared through her soaked nether lips. Despite the terror she felt, nothing could have prepared her for the intensity of the pleasure he was forcing upon her.

"If you will not take them off, I will," he threatened, his teeth scoring the rim of her ear. One hand explored her dripping core, his thick, brutish fingers plundered her depths while he pinched and rolled her taut nipples through the sheer lace of her bra with the other.

Rey shook her head again at his bold choice of words. She tried to bring her hands up to push at his chest, but her entire body was held captive in the thick confines of her jumper as he jerked it up and over her head. She realized then that he must have unclipped her bra sometime during their heated kiss, because now it dangled limply from her arm, providing little protection from his hungry eyes. Flushed and humiliated by her own debauched fantasies coming to fruition, she reached up to cover her bare breasts, but he simply tugged her bra down until it was wrapped securely around one wrist. He drew both of her arms behind her back and tied them there using the lacy material. The position forced her chest out, offered her breasts up to him, but he had moved on.

Lacing his strong fingers through her hair, he tugged on it, pulled her head back and forced her to look up at him. "Min kjaerlighet," he whispered in reverence. His eyes were glazed and had darkened to an almost inky black. The man looked about ready to fall headlong into rut. She shivered at the undeniable proof of his arousal and almost asked him what the words meant.

Before she could utter a syllable, he twisted his hand through her strands and pulled harder, forcing her back against him as he stepped deeper into the room. Her feet moved tentatively backwards, moving with his until he stopped. She opened her mouth once more to speak, but he covered it instantly with his own in another of those scorching kisses that seemed to go on and on, stealing away her every attempt at protesting. Except, this time she was falling, _actually_ falling. The whimper of fear had barely left her lips before she hit the soft linens and pillows of his bed and found herself trapped beneath the weight of his impossibly warm, hard body. She moaned her relief into his open mouth as his tongue plunged down her throat.

His hands moved with singular focus back to her waist and began battling again with her skirt and tights. In one last ditch effort to dislodge him, she rolled her hips hard up against his, but the movement only aided his task as he pushed the layers of material over her hips and down her thighs. Then he gave her the release she sought, lifting himself off of her as he drew back to pull her clothes down to her ankles. Her boots stopped him, but only for a moment.

Then she was naked. Totally naked in a very dangerous alpha man's bed. With her arms trapped behind her back, she couldn't even move enough to sit up on her own.

He smiled down at her with that spider's grin as he reached up behind him. "You like ropes?"

It was a rhetorical question. Rey was thoroughly enthralled by bondage. Shibari, the ancient Japanese art of knots, in particular was her favorite new fetish. He knew as much, they'd met in a forum on the subject.

Still, she hadn't yet worked up the courage to do more than look at the photographs of women, usually naked, contorted and bound. Those strong, rough hands brought her back to the moment at hand as they circled her ankles. He crossed them and positioned her so that her thighs were spread open as he bound her shins to one another securely, preventing her from closing her legs.

"I don't think," she began.

"Good," he interrupted before she could complete the thought, his voice a growl as he tied off the last knot. "Don't think."

She looked down at the intricate lattice work of ropes and knots on her legs. How had he managed to create such complex beauty in the span of only a few stolen moments?

He grinned again, as if reading her thoughts. "I told you; I've been working rope and tying knots longer than I've walked."

She nodded, but the knots that worried her most were the ones growing in the pit of her stomach and the other that would grow at the base of his cock. It wouldn't fit. It _couldn't_ fit. As a beta, she was biologically incapable of taking his knot. If he tried to shove it inside her, he could hurt her. Break her, even. She could be permanently disfigured.

When he bent toward her again, kissing her lips softly this time, the tension in her gut loosened, but just a bit. Strong, and still so in control of her, he eased his hands beneath her and untied her wrists. She sagged with relief, but it was short lived as he brought another rope up from somewhere on the bead. It was cinched already. He slipped it over one of her wrists and secured it above her head to a hook on the wall. How had she not noticed the ropes and hooks sooner?

"No!" she cried out, thrashing about on the bed.

Kylo's dark brows arched in amusement as he grinned down at her. He grabbed for her last remaining free limb. She screeched and fought him, trying to dislodge his weight, reach up for her other hand, and free herself somehow. Panic and bile rose in the back of her throat as the degree of her vulnerability dawned upon her once more.

"Stop." The command was quiet but compelling. "Do not hurt yourself."

"Let me go," she pleaded, angry and disheveled.

"You do not want this?" he asked haughtily. His smile broadened as he traced the length of her upper arm to her neck and shoulders. One of his massive hands tenderly cupped and squeezed her breast as he stared directly into her eyes. "Then why are your nipples hard?" To emphasize his point, he ran his thumbs back across both of them until a softly whimpered moan was torn from her throat. "If you do not wish to be bound by me, mate, then your little pussy will be tight and dry, yes?"

Rey's blush deepened at his vulgarity. Or, perhaps the blush had more to do with what she knew he would find. She closed her eyes and bit at her lower lip, thoroughly shamed by his emboldened accusation for which she held no retort. She swore that she could actually feel the cool sea breeze caress the wetness of her folds. She was ruined, wetter than she could ever remember being. So we that she feared her slick would actually drip down the crease of her ass onto the bed. "Please."

"Oh, Rey, min kjaerlighet, I will most definitely please." His filthy mouth covered hers to inhale the sharp cry from her lips as he captured her free hand and quickly bound it above her head with the other.

Everything inside of her wanted to kick and scream and put up a fight of any sort, but his powerful presence lingered over her and somehow took up all the excess air and space in the cabin. Her heart pounded so fast within her ribs and the blood rushed so loudly in her ears that she feared it would burst. And she couldn't breathe. She gasped and shook, but the air wasn't getting to her lungs and they burned from it.

Trapped beneath him and unable to put a stop to his focused ministrations, she was forced to endure it as he lowered his beastly maw to her tender flesh. A deep, rumbling sound vibrated from the depths of his chest and it struck her that he was actually purring. When had she ever heard an alpha purr? Surely not in any of the videos she'd seen on that site. It soothed her on an animalistic level, the warmth and intimacy of that sound, and the tightness in her chest eased a bit.

He peppered hot, open mouthed kisses to the hollow of her throat, along her jaw, and lower still, to where he buried his face against the pulse point at the curve of her neck and greedily inhaled her scent. She hoped her weak, plain beta smell would dissuade him, remind him of who she was and what she could never give him, but there was no use. He was too far gone. His fingers glided over the trembling, sensitive skin of her torso, scouring the length of her body for any place that made her breath hitch and lingering, caressing her there until she whimpered and bucked her hips against her bindings.

Finally, he reached the slickness of her folds. The rough pad of his thumb circled at the hard nib of her clit and she arched her whole body up against his in response to his succor. His thick middle finger teased briefly at her entrance before surging deftly into her hot, quivering channel. He found that spot inside of her, that notoriously secret spot she'd only heard whispers of, the one she hadn't necessarily believed she possessed. His fingers pressed deeper and rubbed harder against that mythical spot. Rey felt her insides flutter and squeeze around the offending digits as her body clenched and released in a sudden, strange sort of climax that left her wanting. A gush of warm fluid escaped her and she flushed anew, her cheeks flaring with embarrassment.

Kylo laughed aloud at her predicament. "Dry as a desert," he mocked her and licked a hot swipe across her collar bone as he asked, "What was it you said about not wanting this, Miss Palpatine?"

"Bastard," she spat angrily through clenched teeth. When she arched this time, it was not to seek out his touch, but to struggle once more.

He bit hard into the tender swell of her breast. So hard, she worried his teeth might actually break skin and mark her there for weeks to come. She screamed in shock and pain. He wouldn't, _couldn't_ bond with her, at least not permanently. She didn't have the proper gland for him to make the claim permanent, thank God, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt if he tried.

The hand between her legs never stopped working. His relentless fingers drove into her mercilessly with sure, steady strokes to that hidden spot that drove her over the edge again. She felt the puddle of moisture spread on the bed beneath her.

His other hand, the one that had been caressing her and feeling her all over, curled through her hair and jerked her head back hard against the pillow, tugging so strongly that tears sprang to her eyes. Still, his teeth held their perch on her breast. The pleasure and pain melded together, one sensation augmenting the other as they crested over her like a tidal wave. Her throat had long since grown dry from screaming.

She felt her world lurch again and he slid up her body to watch her face and loom over her. Her breast ached where he had bitten her. All of her ached, really. She felt used and sore in places she'd never thought to tone at the gym. Places she'd never known existed within her... she realized then that his hand was no longer between her thighs. Now, that hand, still slick with her juices, gripped the soft flesh of her ass and tilted her hips upward, holding her in place. Her eyes went wider still in fear.

Then he was filling her.

"No," Rey whispered throatily, an unheard plea. "Please, no," she tried again. She felt her body stretching slowly to accommodate his girth and groaned miserably at the burning sensation he created as he pushed deeper and harder inside of her. At least he'd gotten her off first, she reasoned, grateful for the moisture that eased his passage, but he was big. So much bigger than Finn had been and Kylo was not at all the tentative, gentle beta lover that her ex had been.

Why, then, had her body betrayed her? Why had it opened for him? Drawn him deeper? Why did she clench and spasm so violently around this invader? She had to stop this. Had to reason with him before this went any farther. Before it was too late for her.

"Please, Kylo. Don't knot me, please, please," she begged, helpless to stop the stuttering thrusts of his hips as he bottomed out inside of her. "I-it won't fit, please don't knot me," she whimpered. Anything to dissuade or distract him enough to make her escape.

"Nei," he growled into her ear, his teeth finding the same tender spot on her lobe from before and biting down on it again. "Nei," he repeated gruffly as he pounded away at her, harder and faster. "Min kjaerlighet; min valper."

She shook her head, unsure of what he'd said, but somehow knowing it hadn't been the answer she'd hoped for. It was already too late, she was thoroughly powerless to stop the rutting alpha from taking whatever he wanted from her. God, she hated herself for the choices she'd made leading up to this point.

In spite of her mental fight, her body surrendered to every touch he offered, every bite he took from her skin, every brutal thrust of his hips. Her body was tightening under him, straining as his knot swelled and beat against her like a battering ram trying to gain entry to her tight channel. It did hurt, but it also felt better than anything she'd ever known. Again, she felt herself hurtling toward a climax that threatened to consume and destroy her. It was close, so incredibly close, she could almost touch it, but not quite.

Then, he pulled her hair again, his teeth tugging her ear away from her head as his cock drove deeper inside her than everything ever. "Na, min kjaerlighet, na!" he roared. "Flink pike, ja. _Min_ flink pike, kjaerlighet."

All at once, she felt more than heard his groan as his knot finally slipped past her impossibly tight entrance. Rey stilled, desperate and terrified while the most dangerous part of his anatomy swelled and caught inside her. She'd never been so filled up with anything in her life. It hurt. She wasn't entirely sure he hadn't torn her with the vigor of his thrusts. He was everywhere, in every part of her. Wild and wanting, all untamed power and insatiable hunger. And if she moved too much, he could kill her.

It was too late for her, but not for her body. She arched up against him as she crest the peak once more. Her orgasm, painful as it was, rose to match his, going on and on until her vision blurred and her brain disconnected from her traitor body. Until nothing mattered anymore beyond the blinding need that surged forth from him. Everything inside of her burst outwards into a million, shattered little pieces that glittered and soared through the ceiling and higher still, reaching for the stars. Then everything faded into hazy blackness.

Ben groaned in time with his release, bending to kiss her brow as he thumbed affectionately at her throat in search of a pulse. He breathed a sigh of anguished relief when he found it. Tears gathered in his eyes. In truth, he hadn't intended to knot her. The need to rut and breed her had taken hold of him so quickly, he'd lost control. Even if she smelled like everything warm and good he'd ever known, like a home he hadn't realized he'd ached for his entire life, her body couldn't bear to take him. The woman had known it, too. She begged him not to, insisted it wouldn't fit and it hadn't. Until he'd made it.

For all her fevered complaints, she'd taken him _so well._ Her body had answered more eagerly to his claim than he could have imagined. She was perfect. He'd only had to compel her a few times and her body had positively _bloomed_ for him.

It almost hurt, the way he was trapped inside of her now, unable to move except to bury himself impossibly deeper within her quivering, unconscious body. His knot pulsed and fattened within her, spilling and trapping his seed deep up inside her. She had been so perfect. Even asleep, passed out from fatigue, her body was still more receptive to his than he had ever dared hope to find in a partner.

"Godnatt min kjaere, sov gotd," he whispered to her temple when his knot finally deflated enough to pull free from her tight, bruised channel. Even as his alpha protested and demanded that he curl himself around her now and join his mate in slumber, there wasn't time for it. There were things he needed to attend to first, arrangements he needed to make and if they were to sail, he was needed on deck.

Besides, there was much now to discuss with his brothers. After all, it wasn't every day they took a captive. A captive bride. _Their_ bride, as an ancient custom dictated... and she didn't even know his name yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Arousal is not consent. Don't kink shame me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey sleeps while we do a little story building & character development for these burly men-folk.

Ben dressed quickly. It was an easy feat, he'd never fully undressed during their lovemaking, only removed his coat, boots and trousers. As much as he'd wanted to be naked with her, to learn the feel of her soft flesh on his salty, wind chapped skin, there hadn't been time for it. No, this first time had been about luring her in and staking his claim.

A low, gravely purr stirred up from deep in his chest. The strange rumbling sound was foreign, even to his own ears. It had surprised him, too, during their lovemaking. How his alpha had preened inexplicably at the mere notion of taking such a woman, making her his own. No other woman, regardless of their designation or eagerness, had ever elicited such a vocal response from the wolf within. He didn't have time to wonder about the implications, though.

Now that Rey was securely on board their boat, they still needed to make their escape. High tide was fast approaching and Ben would have to deal with customs officials and the old harbormaster before they lifted anchor. They couldn't afford to tarry another day at port. Not if it would give her the chance to escape.

While he dressed, Ben had carefully avoided looking at his bed, where she remained bound and so fucking helpless that his cock hardened at the mere thought of her like that. Even now, after he'd rutted her to the point of exhaustion, he yearned for her. It had been quick, their lovemaking, too quick and he was hungry for more. He wanted to taste every part of her, coax every gasp and moan from her lips until he'd learned all of her most intimate noises and flavors. He wondered if he'd ever have his fill of her.

Judging by the sudden disappearance of his standard refractory period and the swell of his proudly jutting member, he wasn't likely to tire of her anytime soon. Perhaps he never would. At least not until he was tossed asunder, left cold and drowned in a watery grave, laid to waste by the sea like his father before him. Maybe, if he were lucky, he would live long enough to see his physical need for her sober and begin to dwindle with age until he'd eventually become too old to rise for the occasion. By then, their pups would be old enough to brave the seas without him and hunt their own blushing bride. The thought warmed him more than he cared to admit.

Ben knew he was getting ahead of himself. The taking had been effortless, as he'd known it would be. She'd only hesitated once, maybe twice, but she'd _wanted_ to go with him. She'd just needed him to make her. That was part of the allure, the coercion. She'd wanted him rough and demanding, an unstoppable force of nature that threatened to undo her in ways she'd never dared imagine. It was part of her own titillatingly dark fantasy, the one he'd used and manipulated to entrap her in his snare. He wasn't naive enough to assume that any of it was going to be so painless moving forward.

The little woman would be livid when she awoke. A banshee in all her hellish and glorious fury. With any luck, they'd be far enough out into empty waters by then that no one would be around to hear her screams. The last thing they needed was for anyone to witness their crime.

Once he'd finished lacing his boots and fastening the stays on his coat, Ben finally glanced down at the creature snoozing away so prettily in his bed. She looked so much younger and smaller in sleep, all curled in on herself despite her bonds, as if she were still guarding her heart from his taking, even in her unconscious state. Guilt gnawed at his chest and he sighed, bending to loosen the ropes at her wrists and around her tender, pink thighs.

He couldn't untie her. Not fully. Not yet, at least. There would be time for all that later, once they were safely at sea. Until then, he could only try to make her as comfortable as possible by carefully massaging the circulation back into her hands. She was his to care for now, his responsibility.

_Their_ responsibility, Ben reminded himself quickly. He couldn't afford to go all alpha on her. Not entirely. No matter how much his alpha loathed the idea of sharing her, the pretty little woman wasn't meant for just him, alone. It simply wasn't their way.

Armitage had tried to split from the old ways once. He made a real go of it, too. Got married to a posh, angular beta woman from Glasgow and even managed to produce a quiet, mild mannered pup no terribly unlike himself. Unfortunately, their brutal way of life proved too much for the city girl in the end. When she left their island, she'd taken a big part of Armi with her. A part so big that Ben wondered if anything would ever fill it.

No, despite the impediments that they had thought so carefully around, worked so hard and spent good money to circumvent, the archaic ways of their ancestors was best. Modernity couldn't be allowed to interfere with their ancient rite, regardless of local law and custom. Biology couldn't stand in the way, either.

That's why it had been so important for them to choose another beta woman to abscond with. Alphas don't share their mated omegas. They _can't._ Barring the obvious complication of their ruts syncing up from time to time, taking a beta bride greatly reduced the likelihood of him and Armitage tearing each other to shreds over her. Ever the unperturbed, lofty beta male surrounded by puffed up, imbecilic alphas that constantly bickered betwixt themselves, posturing for dominance, Poe had laughed at them and rolled his big, earthy brown eyes at the reasons behind their decision.

In that way, Poe was lucky. He never had to concern himself with the strange surge of hormones preceding a rut. Never lost himself to the wild high of the hunt, thrill of the chase, or victory of his spoils. It never would have even crossed his mind, if they hadn't pointed it out, that any of them could be driven to violence over a haughty slip of glistening pink flesh between an omega's warm and inviting legs.

So, after nearly four decades, the Millenium Falcon welcomed a new _beta_ bride to her masters.

On his way out of the cabin, Ben located and retrieved the envelope of forged documents they would need. The marriage license and passport that, along with his lie to his old friend, the harbormaster, should hopefully ease their departure. He found Poe down the hall in the galley and for a blisteringly repressed moment, he wanted to throttle him. Snuff out his life completely before his more affable baby brother could lay a finger on _their_ mate.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, instead. His voice came out in a gruff, barely contained growl, but he was furious. Agitated beyond belief. More so than he had any right to be.

Some part of him knew that he was behaving irrationally. It wasn't like him to snap so abruptly at one of his own brothers-his _favorite_ brother, least of all-but there was still so much left for them to do before they could set sail. So what if the only thing bigger than the kid's galaxy-sized heart was his appetite? Snacking would have to wait.

Poe looked down at the tray he'd prepared a bit sheepishly, grinning through his embarrassment even as his cheeks tinted violently. The sudden vulnerability in his baby brother's expression startled Ben out of his momentary disconcert. His temper instantly cowed under the disheartened look he caught in his brother's innocent, doe-like brown eyes.

"I thought maybe she'd like something to eat," he admitted as he shrugged again and gifted his brother with his perfunctory boyish grin, halfhearted though it was.

Ben nodded and averted his eyes from the tray. He felt stupid. Silly, even. Leave it to Poe, the least sensible of the lot, to be everything good and sweet and charming that he was not. What kind of an alpha did that make him, for his beta baby brother to have so effortlessly provided sustenance for their woman when Ben had so easily forgotten?

"She's resting," he explained, putting an end to that self deprecating line of thought. "If this is going to work, we need to get the hell out of here. Is everything ready?"

"Armi was requesting the final permissions when I came down," Poe explained, gesturing up towards the deck.

Of course he could count on Armitage to get the job done. His brother had never failed him before and was just as able a seaman and captain as Ben was. Perhaps even more so, if such things were judged purely off talent and skill. Unfortunately, by accident of birth, the authority had been given to Ben. He wondered sometimes if it was the same alpha male compulsion, the biological imperative to dominate and control every possible aspect of his own life, that had motivated Armitage to break with tradition in the first place. That insufferable need to grab for something that was totally his own.

It might have worked, had his brother chosen more wisely. With his head instead of his heart... but the truth was that Greta had been a poor choice from the start. A spoiled rich girl used to having her way in everything should never have been expected to adjust to their quiet and isolated way of life. It was fortunate that she'd had the grace to be born a beta, unable to mate with Armitage in any real or lasting way. Otherwise, he might have died to grief when she left... but that was all behind them now. Well, almost. After three long years spent mourning and pining after a wife that was never coming back, their mother had finally convinced Armi to give the old ways a chance.

The matron had worked just as hard to persuade Ben. He'd been more than happy to let his brothers do the marrying. In the new ways, even. As far as he'd been concerned, the Falcon was his bride and the sea his mistress. Whatever want he had of a woman, he could easily charm from the desultory submissive he met online or in the clubs. Hell, he'd even paid for it in dire straits.

Then again, none of the random women he'd apathetically pursued over the years had been anything like Rey. He usually went for blondes. Soft, plaint little blonde omegas with thick, meaty thighs, big birthing hips and a wide, expansively rounded backside with ample padding to absorb the relentless pummeling shock of his cock and hips thrusting in rut.

So, why then had she managed to dig herself so inextricably under his skin over the past three months? Her innocence and gullible open curiosity did things to him that his more experienced partners never had. The idea of training her just for his taste- _their_ tastes-intrigued him.

Those women had only ever served one purpose in his life. Sexual gratification. Each of them had been just as expendable as the next, if not more so as the intensity of his lustful ruts faded to the passage of time and took his youth along with it.

Not this woman, though. Not if she was to be their one and only. Their everything. No, Rey could never be considered just a passing fad. So what if he'd only begrudgingly agreed to pursue her? This woman was _his_ woman, he'd known it from the moment he'd scented her across the station. It hadn't made a lick of difference to his alpha whether she was a beta or an omega or even an elderly baboon when she'd sauntered up to and frozen in the turnstile just at having seen him. Oh, how proudly his alpha had preened under her dumb, gawking scrutiny.

Yes, his alpha had decided right then and there. This was _his_ woman. _Their_ woman. The one they'd waited half a lifetime for without ever realizing they'd been waiting at all.

None of that would matter and he and his brothers could be in some very real trouble if they didn't make it out of the harbor quickly. While it might have been relatively commonplace for Vikings to pillage riches and steal their foreign brides from the ripe British Isles a thousand years ago, Ben knew that twenty-first century law called it human trafficking. Nowadays, kidnapping a girl could get someone locked up for the rest of their natural born lives. He didn't like taking the risk, but it had to be done and now they needed to get moving.

"Leave it," he instructed, motioning to the plate. "You can give it to her later, when we're out to sea."

Maybe Poe's easygoing nature would help to put her at ease when she woke. He really was the best of them. Young, happy and personable. The kid was funny, too. He always managed to break the tension in their ranks by making him and Armitage laugh when only moments prior they'd been at each other's throats.

Good, Ben decided. Even if his alpha roiled and balked at the idea, he hoped that the woman would grow to like his brothers. Possibly even love them. After all, she would be just as much Poe's wife and responsibility as she was his or Armitage's. In time, anyway.

That was the beauty of their archaic tradition. How it had all come about. As was custom in most Viking settlements, it had always been left to the next able bodied brother or otherwise available male relative to care for the widows and children of those lost at sea. According to legend, their kinfolk had altered the tradition after one such unfortunate bride had suffered the loss of no less than five brothers, one by one. When the last returned from sea alone, she fell to the ground and wept at his feet. "Why? Now I must marry you as well? Why do you not have done with it and have me marry you all from the beginning? That would have been kinder to my heart than forcing me to love each of you in such a short time, only to lose you in turn."

When it came time for her sons to marry, that woman had insisted they heed her warning. Capture just one bride. They were gone to sea for too much of the year, anyway. Since women were often so much more emotionally complicated than men, the arrangement often worked out quite well. If a wife got mad at one of them, it was sometimes possible for another to smooth the waters.

Ben laughed humorlessly. Another job for Poe, then. He had no patience for such things and Armitage wasn't entirely certain he wanted any port of the whole ordeal.

"Ah, our triumphant leader returns at last," Armi mocked him haughtily in that well trained, primly polished accent he used to set himself apart from his less socially refined brothers, as Ben stepped out onto the deck. "Laughing in the face of danger already, are we? Or has she turned your head to mush so quickly?"

"If she had, I'd still have more sense than you," Ben admonished, casting an irritated, albeit dismissive glare in Armi's direction. It was this version of his brother, all proud defiance, that he liked least. He watched the younger man bristle at his words and wondered, as he often did, how he would have handled it were the roles reversed.

Would he have been able to follow his brother's orders as easily as Armitage did his? It hadn't been an issue when they had first taken to sea. As teens and young men working alongside their fathers, they had been almost equals. For a long time, it hadn't mattered to either, though they'd both known the primary responsibility of Captain would eventually fall to Ben.

That passed seemed so far away now. One by one, their fathers had become old men, returning to land and retiring to years of love, laughter, and warmth alongside their mother. Only Uncle Kes, Poe's father, remained to keep their mother company and occasionally offer his son and nephews whatever sage advice he'd picked up from a lifetime of navigating rough and difficult seas.

What Ben wouldn't give for just a kernel of that wisdom now.

"Has the harbormaster cleared us?" he asked, finally looking up to meet Armitage's dejected, crystalline glare.

"He said he wanted to speak with you, himself." Beneath his carefully practiced and meticulously maintained disinterested affect, Armi was worried. As usual, since Greta. The foul, noxious stench of anxiety had altered his natural scent over time, imperceptibly at first, though now it seemed like a real, tangible part of him.

Ben missed the carefree, if a bit quarrelsome man that Armitage had been before he'd gone off on his own in search of a bride. Perhaps his brother's misfortune could serve as a warning for all of them not to let their woman get too close. Not that there was much of a chance for such intimacy between Armi and Rey. Ben wasn't entirely sure the man's heart would _ever_ heal enough from Greta's callous rejection-not of him-but of their _child_ to let anyone else in. As for Ben, well, he was too practical to allow any slip of a woman to get to him. Not even the pretty little girl in his bed that would become their bride.

It was Poe that he'd have to keep a closer eye on. The two of them were closer in age and his brother's winsome temperament would undoubtedly endear him to her. It would only be natural for a deeper bond to form between them. Such a bond could become a tremendous asset in their endeavor to keep her, but not at the expense of his brother's heart. She couldn't be allowed to leave. Not ever. Alpha be damned, he wouldn't stand by this time and let another woman come between them, much less hurt one of them.

He didn't have time to ponder it further when the bulk form of his friend, the harbormaster stepped onto the deck. Ben held out his arms and greeted the elderly man with a smile, "Lando Calrissian!"

The older man pulled him into an affectionate bear hug. Usually, Ben wouldn't stand for such an overzealous display of sentiment, but the grizzled old man was like family. His own father had introduced the harbormaster as an uncle once, decades earlier, when Ben had just started at sea.

"Did you get the little lady all settled in?" Lando asked nosily, smiling widely and casting quick, sneaky glances over Ben's shoulder, eager to catch another glimpse of the mysterious young woman. "Gotta tell you, kid. I never thought an ugly mug like yours could catch a woman like _that._ Mind you, I didn't get much of a look at her earlier... you were in quite a hurry," he commented with a conspiratorial wink. "From what I saw of her, who can blame you? Linger too long with a pretty little thing like that around here and she might get a better offer."

Ben smiled affably as he tried not to react to how accurate the man's description of the situation was. Especially that word... catch. If his friend knew the truth, he would be obligated to betray them, regardless of their familiarity. So, he kept up the polite conversation for a couple of minutes as he handed over their documents, including her forged passport and their dubious marriage license.

"So, where'd she run off to, anyway?" Lando asked again with a bit of a leer, once he'd satisfied himself with skimming over their paperwork.

So, this was the hold up? The lecherous old bastard wanted a better look at 'his' new bride. It was the last thing Ben could allow. If, or more likely _when_ her disappearance made the news, he wanted as few connections linking them to it as possible. He was almost certain the girl hadn't told anyone about him or their meeting, she'd been too shy. Too embarrassed by the depths of her own depravity to be considerate of her own safety. And while there was a cyber trail of their conversations, all of their communications had been routed through random servers all over the world. The profile he made and the information he'd offered in those emails would lead nowhere.

Thanks to the bitter British rain and wind, he was absolutely certain that neither the surveillance cameras at the harbor, nor his father's friend had gotten a really good look at her. Other than tall, with long legs and dark hair, he doubted that Lando could provide any description of the woman. He wanted to keep it that way.

"She's settling in down below. Big day and all." He could see that his 'uncle' wasn't quite satisfied as he stretched and stared at the stairway that led below.

"I really should see for myself. Check her against he passport and all, you know," he cleared his throat.

This wasn't going as easily as Ben had initially expected. He hoped the half lie would serve him well now as he moved in on the man. Shoulder to shoulder, he lowered his voice a bit. "Honestly, I left her sleeping." He added a meaningful eyebrow waggle of his own for good measure.

"'Atta boy, Solo!" Lando congratulated him with a whoop and he slapped his shoulder heartily. "Don't suppose I have to see her if she's... indisposed. I'll just have to take your word for it this time. Besides, I saw enough to know she went with you willingly. I know it sounds awful, but the customs people are pretty hyped about this human trafficking thing."

Which was exactly why the laws and sentences for what their family and people had been accustomed to doing for centuries had become so stiff. The precise reason they needed Lando to get the fuck off their boat and head out to sea as soon as possible.

Poe chose that very moment to make his presence known, his boyish grin perfectly in place as he climbed up from the lower decks. He balanced a tray of warm cookies, fresh out of the oven in his hands. Their mother often froze pounds of the dough for them in advance. She taught them all to cook, clean, sew and to fend for themselves on land all those years before they could sail, but Poe had especially taken to the kitchen. At sea, he generally served as their cook.

Holding the tray out to the harbormaster, he offered amiably, "Take a few, I made a fresh batch for her."

"Don't mind if I do," Lando gladly accepted. "So, you met your brother's wife already, huh? I figured he'd want to keep her as far away from your pretty face as he could," he chuckled as he stuffed a cookie into his open maw.

Poe flushed and gave a little shrug. "He introduced her to us earlier."

"I was just telling Ben what a pretty little thing she is, from what little I've seen of her, of course... but with legs like that, I suppose it wouldn't matter if her face was butt ugly," he joked around mouthful of cookie.

Poe's impish grin widened and he nodded as he held the tray out to the man again. He took three more of the treats and wrapped them in a tissue as he took a final cursory look around the small deck. After a curt nod, Lando held out his hand to both men, taking the younger's first and shaking it briefly. Then, he turned to Ben.

"All seems in order, kid. See you in another three months or so. Until then, do try to get some work done," he ordered jokingly. "Nah, screw it. Leave all the work to these young chaps and enjoy your new bride!"

Ben smiled his relief and shook the man's hand. They wouldn't be returning for some time, but he couldn't tell Lando that. After all, the lives of fishermen in these parts were precarious at best and in the current economy, many had simply given up the trade altogether. He was sure that in another year or so, Lando Calrissian would assume that they, too, had become victims to either the sea or financial ruin.

No, it would be some time before the Millenium Flacon returned to these shores and even then, perhaps it would be best to select another port. He watched Lando disappear down the dock. Heaving out a huge sigh, he looked at Poe.

"Tell Armi we leave immediately," he instructed. Poe nodded and hurried towards the back of the ship.

Ben climbed the stairs to the control room. He checked the latest weather and tide updates as he watched his brothers untether the ship and lift anchor. Within five minutes, they had pushed back from the docks. He was grateful their ship wasn't so large that it required a tug into deeper waters. That would have taken up more time than they had to spare. Without the assistance, they cleared the harbor quickly and were out to open water in no time.

It would be days before they saw land again, but at least the sea would embrace them in her wide arms and give them time and space to get to the relative safety of home with their captive bride. Now he could breathe a bit easier. The matter was settled. Their woman had no place to run.

As soon as the sea was deep and calm enough, he set the autopilot and went to seek out his brothers. He found Poe first. The young man was smiling, as always. He tried to imagine a time when Poe wasn't definitively jovial, but only the strongest gale or the deaths of their fathers could account for such a monumental shift in disposition.

"Take her your cookies and food," he charged. "Make small talk. Hell, you can even untie her if you like... just don't tell her anything until Armitage and I join you."

Poe nodded, though he seemed reluctant to go. "I... what's she like?"

Of course, this had been a joint decision. Sort of. All of them had worked together; trolling the fetish boards in search of a good candidate. They had even written most of the emails as a team, though Ben had to admit that Poe and Armitage had done most of the work. His minor contributions were mostly terse notes about the places they visited. He'd never been very good with words. So, he really didn't know what to say to Poe, even now.

"See for yourself," he recommended with a shrug, offering the best response he could manage. "She's easy to talk to."

He suspected that Poe and Rey would hit it off. After all, who could not love his little brother? Between his handsome face and his almost naively sweet personality, the boy had been a lady's man well before he'd known what to do with them once he'd gotten one.

Ben grinned at the memory of his baby brother's first voyage. The ship had docked in Nederland and they had taken to the bars with their fathers. Even though he'd barely been fourteen, Poe had come with them. Already, he'd reached his full height and unlike either Ben or Armitage, who had been lanky well into their early twenties, Poe was already broad as the trunk of a tree. He'd looked almost as old as Armitage, who was seven years his elder. Even now, Ben wanted to laugh just thinking about all the women, some of them as old as their mother, who had thrown themselves at the poor boy.

No, Poe would do fine with the woman. It was his other brother that he was worried about. He needed to talk to Armitage. Now.

"Go on, kid. Use that charm. Us old men are counting on you to calm the seas for us." He forced a smile to reassure the younger man, but he once more urged with caution. "Just don't give her any details about what's going on, not until we join you. We'll be as quick as we can. The sooner we speak with her, the sooner she can begin to come to terms with her fate. But right now, I need to talk to Armitage. Alone."

Poe nodded and for a split second, that smile was gone. Ben realized that it was more than just Armitage that Greta's betrayal had hurt. His brother's failed marriage had touched them all, in one way or another. And right now, he had to ensure that the three of them were truly united in this endeavor. He slapped Poe hard on the shoulder, practically pushing him toward the stairwell as he continued toward the keel, where he was almost certain Armi was trying to hide from him... from the entire fucked up situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But seriously, when was the last time anyone checked on Rey?


End file.
